


Chuck Fatale

by MessengerHermes



Category: Motorcity
Genre: Chuck likes dresses but hates the Duke, Forced Crossdressing, Kidnapping, M/M, hinted genderfluid chuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 20:16:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1701167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MessengerHermes/pseuds/MessengerHermes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck finds himself playing the damsel in distress and decides to be the most distressing damsel possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chuck Fatale

Chuck had a tendency to lose track of time when he was LARPing, so when Julie and Claire couldn’t get a hold of him that afternoon, they just assumed Chuck had spaced. A few months ago, Claire had finally had it out with Chuck, explaining that he was a great guy but she Just Wasn’t Interested. Mortified, Chuck had apologized profusely and stopped his fumbling attempts at wooing her. Then, to the surprise of everyone, the two had actually become fast friends with Chuck’s awkward seductions out of the way. Everyone was even more surprised at what they bonded most over: Shopping. Chuck had become Claire’s shopping buddy and protégé of all things fashionable.

This new wave of appearance consciousness in Chuck was almost unnoticeable, save that his Lord Vanquisher outfits had become more elaborate and even regal. Claire appreciated the opportunity to dress up a man for once and the challenge of what she called “period style.” The two planned to troll Motorcity’s shopping drag in search of potential material to help make over the rest of Lord Vanquisher’s kingdom. Chuck was supposed to meet with his warriors that morning to find out who was interested in an afternoon shopping trip. It wasn’t until what little daylight Motorcity faded did the burners begin to worry.

“Okay, I know nerdboy gets into the game, but there is no way he didn’t notice six hours pass by!” Claire complained, rising from her perch on the cleanest couch in the Burner’s lounge. “Everything is closed by now!”

“It isn’t like Chuckles to stay out after dark without calling one of us.” Mike said, spinning his spark skull nervously. He’d become progressively more on edge the longer none of them heard from Chuck and after patrolling Motorcity’s perimeter (twice); washing Mutt; helping Dutch tune Mutt up and being booted out for trying to help him tune up 9lives, Whiptail and Stronghorn, but knocking too many things over; then getting booted off of kitchen clean-up because he accidently tossed out Jacob’s latest creation (it wasn’t his fault brussel sprout, carob, sriracha soufflé looked like it was moldy) Mike was out of distractions.

“Maybe he got ambushed by vampire werewolves.” Texas said, grabbing up a screwdriver from the coffee table, “And now he has become one of the legion of the Undead! Only a stake through the heart will save him from eternal damnation!”

The Burners and Claire stared at Texas a moment, all but Mike in varying stages of disbelief and exasperation. Noticing Mike’s stricken face, Julie put a comforting hand on his shoulder, while Dutch surreptitiously attempted to retrieve his screwdriver from Texas’ grasp.

“I’m sure he’s fine Mike, maybe they just got a flat tire?” Julie said.

“But Chuck would call us if that—“ Mike began, when a call cut him off.

Ruby the Darkslayer’s icon popped up as Mike pulled up his comm link.   
“Smiling Dragon, hast thou seen our Lord Vanquisher?” She asked, avatar bobbing.

Mike frowned, a knot forming in his chest. “We thought he was with you, er Darkslayer.”

“Nay, he never appeared this Morn, and he has not answered our summons.” Ruby replied, concern showing through the accent. “I fear something ill hast befallen our lord.”

Mike frowned, muttering under his breath before addressing Ruby, “Thank you for notifying us, Darkslayer, we’ll find the whereabouts of Lord Vanquisher and notify you when he is recovered. If he appears, let us know.”

“Aye, Smiling Dragon, good searching.” Ruby replied, signing off.

Julie had already pulled up a tracing screen and was searching for Chuck’s symbol. The other Burner’s signals were all clustered together at Jacob’s shop, but Chuck’s was nowhere to be seen in all Motorcity.

“Crud muffins.” Mike swore, “Something isn’t right.”

“Could something just be jamming Chuck’s signal?” Dutch asked, looking to Jacob.

The older man shook his head, “No way anything down here would. Even if his normal signal was jammed by interference, there’s still the emergency backup that goes off. Someone took him offline on purpose.”

“It’s the vampire werewolves, man. They’re coming for us.” Texas said, before the others shushed him.

“I don’t think it’s werewolves, vampire or otherwise, Tex.” Mike said, “And I don’t think Kane would be waiting to gloat about catching a burner. So who—“

Mike’s question was answered as all five of their comm link’s started up, a close up of the Duke’s face on screen. The television, previously unnoticed, fizzled before displaying the same image.

“Attention Motorcity, I have an announcement for the Burners.” The Duke said, “I believe I have something of yours.”

The Duke stepped back from the camera to reveal Chuck, kneeling on the floor of what looked like an abandoned department store; two goons held his arms behind his back, Number 2 had her hand twisted in his hair. Chuck, inexplicably was dressed in a shimmering pale blue ball gown, the skirt billowing up around him from his kneeling position on the floor. In any other situation, the image of Chuck in that dress would be hilarious, but now Mike felt his gut clench as he ground his teeth together.

“Mikey—Guys! Don’t listen to him! Don’t—“ Chuck said, voice hoarse and high pitched, he tried to break the guards grip but they held him down.

“I think you get the picture.” The Duke said, stepping forward, face eclipsing the camera once again. “Now Burners, particularly you Chilton, If you want to see your little damsel in distress again—“ Chuck’s protesting shriek was heard behind him. “I suggest you hand over your gorgeous Mutt. I’ll be sending you the coordinates, be there by midnight. Your pretty lover-boy will be waiting. Ta ta!”

The Duke moved to sign off, when a sudden din broke out behind him, he turned to reveal Chuck breaking free of Number 2 and the guards grip, lunging towards the camera and presumably the control panel. His face eclipsed the screen and a dull thud accompanied by a yelp from Chuck was heard as the screen went black.

In Jacob’s living room, everyone stood silent, staring at the screens in a mixture of horror and disbelief Claire’s hands were over her mouth and her eyes were wide. Dutch and Julie exchanged a pensive glance, even Texas was silent, hands in fists with nothing to punch. The thud and yelp at the end of the feed canceled out the image of floating chiffon and taffeta. Mike’s head was down, his jaw clenched as he shut his screen, ignoring the flashing beacon telling him to meet the Duke at the dock’s by midnight.

“We’ll have to meet him.” Mike said.

“But Mike—“ Julie started.

“No buts, we can’t trace them. We know they’ll be at the dock, we can get him there.” Mike said, holding up his hand.

“Oh yeah, a showdown! We’ll kick the Duke right off his shiny crocodiles!” Texas said, punching the air.

“I think you mean Gators, man.” Dutch said.

“Those too!” Texas said, flipping.

“Hang on Tex, a showdown might not be necessary.” Jacob said, pulling up a screen. “Looks like Chuck hijacked the video feed. It’s still running on our network—and it’s sending out a tracking beacon.”

Mike pulled his screen up again, opening it to see that the camera had actually been set up outside a dressing room, discarded clothes and a broken mannequin lying in the background. He could hear Chuck’s voice off screen along with the shuffling of feet. “Hey, not so hard! It’s hard to walk in this thing!”

Mike smiled. “Let’s get ‘em, Burners. Keep the feed running, we can track it on the move.”

“Do you want me to take you back to Deluxe?” Julie asked Claire as everyone filed towards their cars, “We have Jacob so we won’t lose numbers.”

Claire hesitated, looking around the Burner’s garage before shaking her head. “No, I’m coming. I don’t want to stay here alone. And the Duke seems a little” Clair whirled her finger beside her head and whistled, “I think you all need to stick together.”

“You sure? I don’t want to get you involved.” Julie said, standing in front of 9lives.

Claire rolled her eyes. “Julie, look at where we are. I think I’m involved.” She smiled and squeezed Julie’s hand, “Look at all you do, I think I can handle one crazy trip riding shotgun.”

Julie smiled and nodded. The Burners revved their engines and headed out towards Chuck.

 

 

This is not the kind of dress up Chuck had expected to be doing today. He stripped as petulantly as he could manage inside the dingy dressing room. Instead of meeting the warriors to go over costume specs, he’d managed to get nabbed by the Duke. And now Mike might lose Mutt because of him. He hoped his patch went through. It might be their best bet to find him before the standoff. Where there would undoubtedly be miles and miles of limos stretched out for an ambush. Chuck shuddered. Leave it to the Duke to take a thing of beauty too far.

The goons’ grip on his arms was even tighter now as they wrestled him to the floor. The Duke lifted his chin with the end of his cane, the cane that held the camera feed and was hopefully transmitting a tracker to the burners as they spoke.

“I don’t like interruptions, Princess.” The Duke said. “Now how about you apologize to Duke and he’ll forgive you?”

Chuck needed a distraction. Fast. “I’m sorry you have such terrible taste in dresses.” He said, deadpan.

Number 2’s gum popped. It sounded suspiciously like a snort. The Duke stared at him from over his glasses. Chuck suppressed a grin, hit him where it hurts, right in the style.

“What’s wrong with it?” The Duke asked, signaling for his goons to pull Chuck up and let him go. “It makes a statement, has style, flair, sparkle.” He elaborated spreading his hands wide and wriggling his fingers.

Chuck spun around, hands out, “Chiffon? Taffeta? Ruffles? Gold accents? I look like someone sewed their grandma’s bedskirts together!”

He fluffed the skirt, “This thing’s like three feet wide! I look like a cake topper, not a damsel in distress” The Duke frowned at him, and Chuck went for the kill. Chuck swallowed, knowing the others could probably hear and see everything that was happening. But if he was going to distract the Duke, he better go for it. “Not to mention the matching underwear. Tacky.”

“Looks like this damsel’s a diva.” The Duke’s eyebrows twitched. “I suppose you could do better?”

Chuck tried to recall everything he and Claire had talked about regarding how to dress.

“Yes.” Role playing was one of the few talent’s Chuck credited himself with; if the Duke wanted a damsel, he would be the most demanding dramatic damsel he’d ever distressed.

The Duke waved his free hand, waiting for elaboration.

“This shade of blue is too pale, it washes out my already pasty skin. The poufy skirt and sleeves are entirely outdated, along with the ruffles, and this neckline doesn’t work when there aren’t boobs to fill it.” Chuck said.

When the Duke didn’t reply, he added, “A dress in a darker saturated shade, with a sleeker silhouette—maybe a mermaid to offset the shoulders, ruching instead of ruffles, and a cowl neckline to hide my lack of certain northern assets.”

There was a pause as the Duke and his minions regarded him, the only sound was the crack of Number 2’s gum.

The Burner’s watching the feed all sat in silent surprise before Texas’s voice broke across the comm link.

“What’s ruching?” He asked and everyone laughed.

“Don’t worry about it Texas.” Dutch said. “Just focus on following the feed, we’re almost there.”

Mike smiled, “Just keep them busy a little longer, Chuckles.”

Back in the department store, the Duke finally snapped his fingers, gesturing to two of his goons.   
“You heard Chilton’s lover boy. After it.” He said, and the two dispersed among the racks, in search of a dress meeting Chuck’s specifications.

Chuck felt his stomach twist. Annoyed at the feeling and himself for feeling it, he corrected the Duke.   
“I’m not Mikey’s l-lover boy.” He said, crossing his arms and collapsing in a chair in a flurry of fabric. “We’re just friends.”

“Oh Really?” Said the Duke, like he didn’t believe it, leaning in a little closer to Chuck.

In Mutt, Mike put a little more focus on the screen, straining to listen to the staticky conversation.

“Y-yeah. Really.” Chuck said, tilting his chin back, trying to be brave, thinking diva. “And if you wanted a damsel in distress, why grab me? Why not grab the Burner that’s actually, y’know, a girl?” Chuck asked.

“That little lady’s too hard to catch.” The Duke said, taking Chuck’s chin between his fingers. “Besides, you don’t need to be a lady to be a damsel in distress.” He leaned in close enough for Chuck to feel his breath on his neck and Chuck swallowed. “And I don’t think she revs Chilton’s engine the way you do.”

 

On the road, the others shouted his name as Mike swerved barely missing the jutting ruins of an old strip mall.   
  
“Mike! Watch it!” Julie shouted over the comm.

“Head in the game man!” Dutch said.

“Right, sorry guys, I’m here.” Mike said, clenching the wheel at the image of the Duke’s face inches from Chucks.

If the others thought the mishap was related, they didn’t say.

 

“T-the only thing that revs Mike’s engine is Freedom.” Chuck said, internally wincing at how utterly cheesy he sounded.

“Uh huh. Apparently freedom wears size thirteen sneakers and comes in blond.” The Duke said, still disbelieving. “I don’t know why you’re protesting being Chilton’s. I figured you like the idea.”

Chuck felt his face glowing red, but couldn’t find anything to say.

The Duke leaned away from Chuck finally and he breathed a sigh of relief as the two goons came back arms filled with dresses in various shades of blue.

The Duke snapped his fingers and they held them up for examination.

Chuck went through them all, dropping them on the floor as he went. “Too short. Too conservative. Too green. Too sparkly. Too plain. No, just no. Uh uh.”

“Oh just pick one!” The Duke shouted.

Then at last. “Yes.”

“Oh Finally! Put the damn thing on already!” The Duke said, waving his hand.

Chuck went to go back into the fitting room, but the Duke stopped him with his cane.

“Sorry princess, no time, it’ll take you twenty minutes if you go back there. No more stalling.” The Duke said, “Don’t be bashful, it’s nothing we haven’t seen before.”

Chuck swallowed, painfully aware of the Duke’s cane. He hated being undressed in front of other people. He hated the idea of the others seeing him undressed. Most of all he hated the idea of Mike seeing him undressed, his skinny body, with the scars of Motorcity life, exposed under sickly fluorescent lights. He swallowed and blew out a breath.

“Uhm, I need someone to help unzip me.” He said, feeling awkward.

Without a word, Number 2 stepped forward and unzipped him with precision. He thanked her and sighed with relief as the massive dress pooled around his legs. He had to jump out of it, legs tangling awkwardly in all its layers.

“Geez, that thing weighed a ton.” He grumbled, taking the new dress offered him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Chuck was aware of the fact that he was standing surrounded by the Duke and his lackeys in only a pair of pale blue panties that did nothing to really support or cover him. While his friends, most likely including Jacob as well, definitely including Mike, were all most likely watching over a live feed he himself set up. He pushed down the absurdity and horror of this situation to be dealt with at a much later date, when he could properly sob and wheeze biting his knees and pulling his hair where no one could hear him.

Now, the only sign of his distress was his high pitched, cracking laugh and the trembling of his hands as he slid the dress on. Number 2 again stepped forward to help zip him in and as he turned to regard himself in the mirror, he had to admit he looked good. The deep blue satin made a striking contrast to his blond hair and freckled skin, the neckline showing off his collar bones and the cut of the dress hugged his sleek frame and long legs. Number 2 dropped a pair of black pumps by his feet, before cupping his face, running over his lips with a dark pink gloss and swishing coppery eyeshadow over his lids. Chuck blinked, staring at her in confusion and she smiled up at him.

  
“May as well complete the ensemble.” Was all she said, cracking her gum before turning him to face the mirror again.

The shoes actually fit and Chuck thought he actually looked kind of impressive. Like he had fallen out of one of an old noir film. A part of Chuck thought this might be fun to do next time he and Claire went out shopping. He didn’t mind the dress so much as the company.

“Oh wow,” Chuck said as he took in the finished product, before correcting himself, “I mean, I told you so.”

The Duke pulled him by the hand, spinning him to get a look and the dress flowed out around his knees in a smooth arch.

“Not bad, not bad at all, Blondie.” The Duke said. “Maybe I won’t even hand you back to Chilton. Someone so fine should clearly be in my company. And you and Mutt are practically a matching set.”

Chuck broke out of the Duke’s grip, spinning away.   
“Now hang on, you made a deal!” Chuck said, voice cracking, “You said you’d give Mike a trade.”

“Well, I changed my mind.” The Duke said.

“Mike won’t let you have Mutt! And you can’t just keep me!” Chuck said anxiety creepy into his voice as he gripped his left arm. He glanced over his shoulder, noticing the emergency exit sign across the store.

“Oh really now?” The Duke asked, “And who’s going to save you?”

Chuck activated his slingshot and aimed at the Duke, backing away from the group. Number two and the goons drew their guns and Chuck felt his knees shake.

“M-me! I am!” Chuck shouted, trying to sound confident.

The Duke laughed, head falling back. “And just how do you think you’re escaping here, blondie? You don’t even know where you are!”

Chuck’s arms shook, he knew the Duke was right. He had no clue, but maybe he could hide somewhere, the others had to be close by now—

The sound of motors revving roared outside the store. Chuck gave a hysterical laugh.

“I’ve got a ride.” He said, whipping the slingshot away from the Duke to fire at a nearby fire alarm.

The alarm blared and the sprinklers went off, spraying an ancient crust of gunk everywhere. Chuck took off running for the door, kicking off the pumps as he went, the Duke and his lackeys squawking shocked behind him. Chuck grabbed everything in his path, the ancient mannequins and musty clothing racks tumbling it behind him, in his pursuers’ way as he ran. He could hear the fumbling steps of the Duke’s lackeys and felt a shot from Number 2’s gun whizz by his ear. He gave a hysterical shout and ran faster, not daring to look back. The end of his dress caught on something. He ripped it free. The fabric slipped in his fingers, slick with water and grime.

“MIKEY! OVER HERE!” He shouted, bursting through the emergency exit out into the night. A shower of gunfire and shouting at his heels.

He sprinted in the direction of the Burners’ engine noise, laughing hysterically as Mutt’s headlights caught in his eyes. Mike swerved Mutt up alongside Chuck throwing the passenger side door open and Chuck jumped in.

“Nice one buddy!” Mike said, laughing as they sped off, the other Burners on their heels.

On the screen, they could see the Duke’s feet as he and his goons cursed and sputtered under the sludge. The camera lifted panning over the scene, showing Number 2 standing under an umbrella as the goons huddled under their jackets. The Duke brought the camera up to his face, his glasses streaked with dirty water.

  
“Nicely played, Blondie. Nicely played.” He said, smiling. “Another time then, Chilton.” He severed the feed.

The others congratulated Chuck over the comm link.

“Way to go Chuck, you really hit the Duke in the ego.” Julie said.

“I thought he was gonna pop a blood vessel for a while.” Claire laughed.

“Not Bad. For a guy in a dress.” Texas commented. “Needed more kicks, you can’t kick in a dress.”

“Way to go man, you okay?” Dutch asked.

“Y-yeah, I’m good.” Chuck said, pulling back his wet hair. “Just a damaged ego.”

“Hey kid, you just showed up the Duke while looking like one of my Nana’s porcelain dolls.” Jacob said, “I don’t think you’re the one who should be embarrassed. Meet you kids back at the garage?”

Mike exchanged a glance with Chuck before nodding. “Yeah, Jacob, we’ll meet you guys back home.”

Mike severed the link and he and Chuck were left with only the growl of Muck’s engine between them. Chuck stared out the window, remembering the conversation with the Duke and everything that Mike probably saw and heard. Mike watched the way the water slid down Chuck’s neck, clung to his eyelashes.

“You, you look good.” He offered and Chuck burst out laughing. “Okay, maybe a little dirty, but I mean if you were dry and clean—“

Chuck put his hand over Mike’s on the gearshift.

“Dude, it’s fine, you don’t have to be nice, or worry about my feelings.” Chuck said, a sad smile twisting his lips. “I get it.”

“Chuckles, Chuckles come on, look at me.” Mike said, “Come on, look at me.” Chuck obliged, peering up at Mike through his bangs. “I like you too. I mean, more than a friend like.”

Chuck laughed, “You’re messing with me.”

“No, I’m not.” Mike said, “Chuckles, You rev my engine.”

Chuck smiled, feeling his face burn. “That line is terrible.”

“Would you rather I say I love you like freedom?” Mike said

“Even in a dirty dress?” He asked, laughing.

“Even in a dirty dress.” Mike said, laughing.

Mike shifted his hand under Chuck’s, moving so their fingers interlocked around the gear shift. Chuck smiled. Their hands entwined all the way home.


End file.
